Self Reflection
by Blandge
Summary: Mirrors are funny things. They show us what we are, what we were, and what we could have been. When Harry and Haley Potter look into the mirror and see each other, a connection is forged that will see their destinies intertwined.
1. Chapter 1

A/N: This is the first story I am publishing, just for something fun, light and easy to write, while I work on other more difficult topics. I am not using a beta for this fic, so the chapters might not be as polished as some of my other work. I'm really going for quick chapters to get my muse going. This story will alternate between Harry and Haley's perspectives, and I have a good plan for where the plot is leading.

Summary: Mirrors are funny things. They show us what we are, what we were, and what we could have been. When Harry and Haley Potter look into the mirror and see each other, a connection is forged that will see their destinies intertwined.

Self Reflection

ooooOOOOooooOOOOoooo

Chapter 1

 _This is a two-way mirror. I've got the other. If you need to speak to me, just say my name into it; you'll appear in my mirror and I'll be able to talk in yours. James and I used to use them when we were in separate detentions._

Harry's heart began to race. He remembered seeing his dead parents in the Mirror of Erised four years ago. He was going to be able to talk to Sirius again, right now. He knew it.

He looked around to make sure there was nobody else there; the dormitory was quite empty. He looked back at the mirror, raised it in front of his face with trembling hands and said with as much firmness and clarity as he could muster, "Sirius."

His breath misted the surface of the glass, and he thought he saw the reflection flicker briefly. He held the mirror even closer, excitement flooding through him, but the eyes blinking black at him through the fog were definitely his own.

He wiped the mirror clear again and shouted, "Sirius Black!" Every syllable rang through the room, and his voice echoed off the far wall.

The mirror began to flicker again, this time repeatedly until he saw it go dark, the reflection behind him gone. He pulled the mirror close to his eyes, trying to make out the formless shapes in the image. As he got closer, he saw a pair of familiar emerald eyes staring back at him. He groaned inwardly when he realized it wasn't going to work. He was about to hurl the mirror back into his trunk when something unexpected happened.

The eyes blinked. And he definitely hadn't blinked. A flash of white hot adrenaline shot through his body, and his heart pounded. He stared again, searching the mirror some sign of movement. That's when he noticed the strange, blackened streaks running down from the corners of the eyes in the mirror, and – What were those? Mascaraed eyelashes?

"Hello?" he asked, tentative and wary.

The voice that replied was decidedly feminine. "Sirius?" it asked. There was a desperate quality to the tone.

He frowned. A girl? Why did some girl have Sirius's mirror? His mind raced to formulate a response.

"Err, what?" he responded intelligently.

There was a pause.

"Sirius Black, is that you?" the female voice repeated, but the desperation had been replaced with confusion.

"No, this is Harry," he said, still trying to figure out what was going on. She sounded young, around his same age. This wasn't making any sense.

"Who are you? Why do you have Sirius' mirror?" the voice asked, now sounding suspicious.

Harry was about to answer the question, when his survival instincts kicked in. It probably wasn't a good idea to be telling whoever was on the other side they were talking to The-Boy-Who-Lived. He studied the pair of eyes before him, trying to discern the girl's true intentions. Her eyes eyes darted back and forth impatiently, waiting for an answer. He couldn't help but notice the smear where mascara had run down her face from crying.

"He gave it to me. Who are you?" Harry asked.

There was another pause that stretched on for half a minute.

"I'm Haley. Why would Sirius give his mirror to you?" the girl asked, annoyance evident in her tone.

Harry scoffed indignantly, and in a moment of weakness his anger outweighed caution. "I don't know, why would Sirius give his only godson a two-way mirror to communicate with him?"

The eyes widened in surprised, and then squeezed shut. This time the pause lasted even longer. Harry opened his mouth to speak, but the eyes finally reopened, and the voice followed moments later.

"Is this a joke?"

"Why would I joke about that?"

"How is it possible that you're Sirius' godson?" she asked, irritation creeping into her voice again, but the question sounded genuine.

Harry considered this. _I guess it wasn't common knowledge that Sirius was my godfather; otherwise, she would have made the connection between that and my name._ He was torn between answering truthfully and making up a lie. Eventually, the truth won out. The girl didn't seem to have nefarious intentions, and if Sirius gave her his mirror, she couldn't be all bad.

"He and my dad were best mates in school, so my parents named him my godfather when I was born," he said.

This time her widening eyes were accompanied by a sharp intake of breath. When she spoke, her voice shook with nervous anticipation. "No. That's… That's not possible." Her eyes squeezed shut again, and they were shining when they reopened. "Wh-what's your surname?" she stammered.

Harry couldn't figure out why she was so worked up, but he decided telling her couldn't really put him in any more danger than he was already in.

"Potter. I'm Harry Potter," he said.

He heard a sob erupt from the other side of the mirror and the eyes disappeared. The sounds of Haley crying could be heard from the mirror, but there was no discernible image.

He shifted uncomfortably from where he was sitting on the edge of his bed. He glanced around the room again to confirm it was empty. It was.

When he brought the mirror back to his face, the eyes has returned. There were unshed tears threatening to overflow her lower lids.

"Err, are you ok?" he asked awkwardly.

"No. No, I'm not," she answered firmly, her voice thick with emotion. "Because either you're playing some sick, twisted joke on me," she said pausing for his response.

"I'm not," he answered quickly.

When she continued speaking, he could hear her jaw quivering as she held back tears, "or I've just received life-changing news. You see, my name is Haley Potter, and my parents were James and Lily Potter."

Harry's mind reeled. "No.. You're lying," he barked angrily. This was despicable. There was no way it could be true.

"It's true," she said.

"No, how can that be? Explain to me how it's possible that I've never even heard of my own sister," he demanded. He tried to think back to everything he'd been told about his parents. He was an only child, and everybody he'd ever talked to had told him he was an only child. She must be wrong!

"I… don't know," she said, defeated.

He thought about what she'd said and how she'd said it. There was no way she was that good at acting. Her reactions were genuine. Could this be real?

"Let me see you. Move the mirror back and let me see your face," he said, a lump forming in his throat. This time, it was his voiced full of emotion.

"Ok, but you too," she said slowly.

"Ok," he said.

When he saw the face in the mirror begin to grow, he started to push his own mirror back from his face.

He watched in awe as a small, narrow nose appeared along with thin, ginger eyebrows. A heart shaped face grew around her almond-shaped eyes, revealing full lips, swollen from crying. Wavy, auburn locks came into view framing her soft facial features and slender neck attractively. She looked exactly like his mother.

They locked eyes and he saw his mother's eyes staring back at him. His eyes. He covered his mouth, and tried to prevent a sob from escaping. He felt as though he could see into her mind, reading her emotions just by reading the familiarity of her gaze.

He watched her sniff and wipe the tears from her face. When she looked back at him, her eyes flicked up to his forehead and locked onto his scar. Suddenly, her breath hitched, and she started breathing so fast, he thought she might hyperventilate.

"Oh Merlin," she said heavily, covering her mouth.

He brought his hand up to touch the scar on his forehead. "Oh this, err well-" he started to explain, but she cut him off.

"No, Harry. Look," she said.

He watched perplexed as she reached up to her face and pulled back her fringe to reveal –

Harry gasped. "Bloody hell!" He exclaimed in bemusement as he stared at the lightning bolt scar marring her forehead. "It can't be. That's impossible," he argued.

At that, they both stared in stark amazement at one another's scars – the mark given to them by Lord Voldemort, a stain upon their very destinies.

Harry threaded his hands through his hair, frustrated and confused. "What the fuck is happening!" he shouted, losing to gain is composure.

They gazed at each other for a long time. He studied her face, and she studied his. Both trying to figure the other out. Only the occasional sniffle from Haley broke the awed silence.

When Harry finally worked up the courage to speak, he looked her in the eyes and all he could manage was, "Haley Potter," as though trying it out for the first time, and indeed he was.

Her chin lifted in some inexplicable emotion. "Harry Potter," she answered.

Harry opened his mouth to speak, but then Haley turned her head sharply to the side, and she looked back at him, panic in her eyes.

"Harry, I have to go. Use the mirror at exactly this time tomorrow," she said hurriedly.

Harry glanced down at his watch, before returning his gaze to her eyes. "Ok. Bye Haley."

"Bye Harry," she said, returning his gaze.

It took him minute to realize the connection had ended and he was staring back into his own reflection. He continued looking into his own eyes wishing they were hers – and in a way, they were.

ooooOOOOooooOOOOoooo

Harry woke early the next morning the same way he had awoken the previous three, wishing that the events of last Thursday had been nothing more than a bad dream. Had it all just been a horrible nightmare? Had the battle in the Department of Mysteries just been a figment of his imagination? No, Harry had to face the reality of it all.

Sirius was dead.

He opened his eyes to the bright morning sun flooding into the 5th year Gryffindor boys' dormitory, and his heart sat heavy in his chest. As the last hazy vestiges of sleep cleared from his mind, Harry shut his eyes again and pulled his pillow out from under his head, stuffing it down over his face. He pulled it as tight as he could, so that he couldn't breathe, feeling like he might smother himself if he could. He held the pillow there, until his biceps and chest burned with equal strain.

Just then, an errant thought caught his attention. The mirror. Haley!

He sat bolt upright and tossed his pillow to the side inhaling deeply. He grabbed the mirror from his nightstand and stared into his reflection, trying to picture what she looked like.

"Haley Potter," he tried.

Nothing.

He frowned to himself and checked his watch. Their meeting wasn't scheduled to occur for another nine hours. He set the mirror back down on his nightstand and flopped back into bed, letting his body rebound slightly from the force of his weight.

He laid there, looking up at the four poster, trying to ignore the fact that he had just two hours to pack all his things and return to Privet Drive with the Dursleys. This was his last chance to enjoy the comfort of Hogwarts' beds.

"Haley Potter," he muttered again to himself as his mind wandered. She had certainly looked as though she might be the daughter of James and Lily Potter. She had his almond shaped, green eyes. Her hair was auburn red just like he'd seen in the pictures of his mum. She was pretty. At least the part of her he'd seen from the neck up.

Each time he'd gotten a spare moment to think since their meeting before dinner, he'd found his mind drifting to her and their conversation. It was a mystery, and more than a little bit unsettling. Still, it was a welcome respite from thoughts of the battle in the ministry, his possession and Sirius' death.

That last thought made him shake himself out of his reverie. He didn't want to think about Sirius. Harry rolled out of bed wearily, and began packing his trunk for the trip to London.

ooooOOOOooooOOOOoooo

Later that day, Harry found himself pacing back and forth in his room at Number 4 Privet Drive. He checked his watch, and it read 5:32 in the afternoon. It had been a mere eight minutes since the last time he checked, and it was still an hour and nineteen minutes until his scheduled mirror call with Haley at 6:41.

Despite his excitement, Harry found himself strangely nervous at the prospect of talking to her. He tried to reassure himself that his nervousness was merely a result of talking to his long lost family member, but couldn't find a reasonable justification for why he spent thirty minutes in the loo trying to make his hair lay flat.

If he was honest with himself, part of it definitely had something to do with the fact that he was going to be talking to a pretty girl alone in his room.

Harry never really regretted that he didn't own any nice muggle clothing until now. Even at fifteen years old, he still wore Dudley's old hand-me-downs. At Hogwarts, he always wore Wizard robes, so it was never an issue. Here at the Dursleys' that wasn't exactly an option.

Harry finally decided that his only recourse was to wear his latest, dark green Weasley sweater over one of his baggy shirts. Sure, it looked strange to wear during the middle of summer, but he had nothing better.

It was no more than five minutes later when Harry heard a muffled feminine voice call his name. At first he thought it might be Aunt Petunia, but it lacked her sharp, irritated tone. He looked around in confusion at first before realizing it was coming from the mirror that was laid face down on his bed.

His brow furrowed as he looked at his watch, which read 5:37. Had he misremembered the time?

"Harry Potter," the voice came again. It was definitely Haley.

Harry felt a jolt of nerves strike him as he darted over to the bed. He reached for the mirror eagerly, but took a couple deep breaths before turning over the mirror.

He saw the hopeful face of Haley Potter staring back at him.

Harry tried to form a casual looking smile, and said "Hi, Haley!" a bit more enthusiastically than he would have liked.

Her face formed into an exuberant smile at his words. "Hello, Harry. I'm glad you answered, I was afraid we might not be able to talk again," she said.

He felt his eyes bug out slightly as he took in her appearance. She looked different from the last time he'd seen her. Yesterday, her make-up had run from crying, and her hair looked tussled. All in all, she had looked similar to him, appearing to be emotionally distraught.

Today however, she looked immaculate. Her cheeks bore pinkish blush, her lips were pursed with a glossy, clear lip balm, and she wore eye shadow that matched her irises. To top it off, her hair was lightly curled so that it hung around her face.

Harry didn't know much about girls, but if he didn't know any better he'd say she was all made up for something. Would it be too forward to ask where she was going?

After staring for a moment longer than necessary, he cleared his throat and spoke up. "Yeah I was a bit worried too. It's great to see you, but I thought we weren't meeting for another hour and fourteen minutes," he said, a bit confused.

Haley flushed and looked away. "Yeah, well I got a bit impatient waiting," she said with a nervous laugh.

Harry smiled inwardly at her words. She'd been looking forward to speak with him! Feeling bold, Harry smirked at her and said, "Excited to hear from me were you?"

Her blush intensified, but she looked into his eyes defiantly and responded in kind. "Yeah, I guess I couldn't wait the hour and, what was it, fourteen minutes?" she returned with a matching smirk.

It was Harry's turn to blush.

They grinned at each other, both of their faces beet red. After a moment, they both burst out in laughter as the tension lifted.

When Harry next spoke, his voice was calm and his tone genuine. "But seriously, I am glad to talk to you again… I've been thinking about you – That is to say, I've been wondering about how we have the same parents, and how you got your scar."

She nodded thoughtfully. "Yeah me to. I guess we should compare stories."

"Ok," agreed Harry.

"D'you want to go first?" Haley asked.

Harry briefly considered that this might be a ploy by Voldemort to get information, but Voldemort already knew almost everything about him. He'd just have to leave out some of the more sensitive details.

"Ok, sure. Err, where should I start?" he asked.

"The beginning I guess," Haley suggested with a shrug. She absentmindedly tugged on a stray lock of hair, twirling it around a finger.

Harry couldn't help but notice how adorable she looked.

"And by beginning you mean… Birth?" he asked.

She giggled. "Well I know you can't remember back that far, but give me your history, at least what you know of," she replied.

"Right, well I was born July 31st, 1980 to James and Lily Potter," began Harry.

This elicited a sharp intake of breath from Haley, but at his questioning look, she bade him to continue.

"We lived in their cottage at Godric's Hollow until their death on October 31st, 1981. They were murdered by Lord Voldemort after being betrayed by one of their best friends, Peter Pettigrew."

A deep frown had grown on her face, and she looked to be in heavy contemplation. Strangely, she didn't seem to bothered by the fact that his parents were murdered when he was a baby. Most people would be falling over themselves to apologize at this point.

"What's wrong?" he asked.

Haley's brow furrowed in a cocktail of confusion and concentration. "That's the night you got your scar, isn't it?" she asked.

He nodded slowly.

"All of what you said is true for me as well," she said. "I got my scar on Halloween 1981 when Voldemort's killing curse rebounded back on him."

It was Harry's turn to frown. "How is the possible? Are we twins?" he asked.

Haley shook her head. "No, that doesn't explain why we both have a scar. The killing curse couldn't have rebounded off both of us in the same spot."

Harry watched as she chewed her lower lip while she thought, still playing with her hair. Was she always this cute when thinking hard? He shook his head and tried to concentrate on the task at hand.

It was then at Haley's eyebrows perked up. "Where did you grow up?" she asked. her voice now confident. "After your parents died?"

"Err," Harry balked. He didn't usually like talking about his childhood, but it seemed Haley may have gone through something similar. "With my aunt and uncle, the Dursleys," he said.

She nodded as he spoke, expecting the answer, "I think I have an explanation for what's happening here," she said with a hint of pride in her voice.

Harry tried to think of what she might have in mind but came up blank. "Ok, what's that?" he asked.

"Well the simplest answer is that you're lying, but the way you've been acting makes me think you're telling the truth," she began in a familiar, Hermione-esque tone. "What I think is happening here is that we're from parallel universes," Haley explained, as though it was the obvious answer.

There was a pause as Haley waited for him to catch up. "A parallel universe?" he parroted blankly.

"Yes exactly, also known as an alternate dimension. You see I was raised by the Dursleys as well. So assuming we are both telling the truth, the only logical conclusion is that we live in alternate universes that presumably diverged during our development in the womb. You became a boy and I became a girl." She looked pleased with herself.

Harry on the other hand was speechless. He mulled the words over in his head, trying to decide which part to respond to first. In the end, it was his compassion that won out.

"I, well, Merlin… You were raised by the Dursleys? Did they treat you alright?" he asked, hesitantly.

Haley's mouth dropped open. "Didn't you hear what I just said? We're talking to each other from different universes, and all you care about is the Dursleys?" she exclaimed, an incredulous expression written on her face.

"I, well, no I don't care about the Dursleys at all, I care about you," Harry said.

Her expression softened as his words sunk in. "Oh… No, Harry, Uncle Vernon and Aunt Petunia have always treated me well," she said softly. Her eyes were full of concern, but her gaze was calculating as she studied his face.

Harry let out a small, unintentional sigh. "Ok. That's good," he said, and there was a pregnant pause, before Harry made a very deliberate change the subject. "I never really thought about alternate universes before."

Haley looked torn between wanting to continue that line of thought and addressing the previous issue. "Harry, did the Dursleys mistreat you?" asked Haley. Her voice was so soft that it was barely audible coming from the mirror.

Harry's expression shifted to a well-practiced mask of indifference. "No."

"Harry-" started Haley, but she was cut off.

"Look, I don't want to talk about it," Harry said, looking away from her. "Let's just get back to the parallel universe thing."

"Ok, I'm sorry, Harry," she responded.

Harry thought he heard a tremble in her voice, but he remained stoically silent.

Haley stared, unsure what to say, but eventually decided to let the subject drop. She cleared her throat. "Well, like I said, I think we're from alternate realities. Such a thing is theoretically possible through magic according to a book I read. I should see if I can order a copy from Flourish and Blotts. My hypothesis is that the main difference between these two dimensions is that we were born opposite genders. We should compare notes to see what, if anything, is different historically before our births. Tell me everything that's ever happened."


	2. Chapter 2

Self Reflection

ooooOOOOooooOOOOoooo

Chapter 2

Haley Potter sat the Dursleys' dining table in contemplative silence. She'd just finished grilling Harry about every important historical fact she could remember. After forty five minutes, it became clear to Haley that Harry wasn't the most studious wizard, or muggle for that matter. Even some of the more famous historical events he had little or no recollection of learning about in school.

In the end, Haley concluded that historically, their worlds were identical as far as she could tell. They weren't able to find a single event that differed between the two worlds.

Haley grinned inwardly at the thought of Harry's growing frustration as the questions got more and more obscure. He refused to continue answering questions after she had asked if the Union forces were victorious during the Muggle American Civil War.

Haley had enjoyed poking fun at Harry's ignorance of history during their discussion, and it led to a fair amount of playful, if unpracticed flirting from both of them. She found it refreshing to talk to somebody of the opposite sex that didn't think of her as Haley Potter the girl-who-lived, and just saw her as Haley.

She had to admit that Harry was pretty cute. Physically, he was handsome enough, if a little skinny, but the most attractive thing about him was the way he talked to her. Sure he was a bit socially awkward, but he had a humble confidence that comes from somebody who doesn't have anything left to prove. Though, if Harry had been through some of the things she had during her first five years at Hogwarts, she could see why.

Her thoughts suddenly turned dark when she remembered the conversation they'd had about the Dursleys. She had just gotten done telling him that they were from alternate universes, and he asked her if the Dursleys treated her well, as though she didn't just tell him that they were communicating through a rift in spacetime.

Had he suffered abuse at the hands of the Dursleys? His behavior certainly seemed to indicate such.

She looked up at Vernon Dursley who was sitting there reading the newspaper and gnawing on a chicken bone. Was he really capable of abusing a child? He'd never done anything to her that she would consider abuse. Sure he was frightening when he was angry, but any man his size would be right?

Uncle Vernon scoffed as he read an article on the second page of the paper. "These idiots at Parliament need to get their heads out of there arses. A monkey could to a better job of it," he growled. Little bits of food flew out of his mouth as he spoke, and his face began turning a deep shade of red.

Next, her gaze shifted to Aunt Petunia, who was nodding her head in agreement with him. She had a severe look on her face as though she was taking him very seriously. Petunia turned to meet Haley's stare.

Haley smiled at her to divert attention to the fact that she'd been staring. Petunia turned her head up.

"Eat your supper Haley."

It was then that an idea popped into Haley's head. She couldn't remember ever having an actual conversation about her parents with her relatives. Her Aunt would always find an excuse to change the subject. She'd always assumed it was because the memories were too painful for her Aunt Petunia to remember.

"Aunt Petunia, can I ask you something?" asked Haley. She ate a large bite of peas after she spoke, trying to look disinterested.

Petunia let out an exasperated sigh. Real discussions at suppertime were uncommon at the Dursleys'.

"I suppose."

"Did my mum ever show you any magic when you were young?" Haley asked, trying to make the question sound as innocent as possible.

Aunt Petunia's face became grave, and Haley noticed her eyes flicker over to Uncle Vernon for a split second. Following her gaze, Haley saw her Uncle had dropped the newspaper and was now glaring at her, a red flush was working its way up his bulging neck.

"No, and this isn't a conversation to have at the dining table," Petunia said. Despite the firm dismissal, there was an odd quaver in her aunt's voice.

Haley paused. What was that? Fear? She decided to push her luck. "Not even a little bit? Levitation or some small transfiguration?"

"Girl-" Vernon began in a warning tone, but Petunia cut him off.

"Haley! You don't talk about such things while we are eating supper. Go up to your room!" she said, her shrill voice raising almost to a shout.

Haley felt a wave of anger wash over her, and she narrowed her eyes at her aunt, but was somewhat startled to be met with a pleading gaze rather than annoyance.

"Why not, I just want to learn a bit more about my mum. You told me when I got my Hogwarts letter that-" the young redhead began, but she never finished.

Haley and Petunia both let out loud screams as the table was flipped and all of the plates and silverware went flying in all directions.

Haley toppled backwards out of her chair as she clamored to move out of the way. She saw stars as she hit her head on the corner of the cabinet under the sink. She was momentarily stunned, but was roused by roaring shouts coming from Uncle Vernon.

"YOU WON'T TALK ABOUT SUCH THINGS IN MY HOUSE, FREAK! YOUR BLOODY PARENTS GOT THEMSELVES KILLED BECAUSE OF THEIR FREAKISHNESS, AND I WON'T HAVE THE SAME HAPPEN TO MY FAMILY!"

Haley looked up to see Vernon towering over her, shaking in rage. His face had turned a deep shade of purple, and his bloodshot eyes were staring daggers at her. She inched backwards until she was near the hallway that led into the sitting room, and for a moment she thought Vernon was going to continue stocking towards her.

"Vernon," came her aunt's meek voice from the opposite side of the dining room.

Vernon looked over his shoulder.

Haley took her chance and bolted. She flew up the stairs two at a time. When she reached her bedroom, she slammed her door, locked it and braced it shut behind her.

She listened for the sound of heavy footfalls on the stairs, ready to grab her Firebolt and jump out the window. The house was silent besides the sound of her heavy breathing.

Haley couldn't believe what had just happened. Uncle Vernon had never been particularly nice to her, but she had always thought it was due to his gruff attitude towards everyone and everything. She never expected he would blow up on her for something so minor as asking about her parents. Her childhood home seemed much less welcoming now.

Haley's thoughts grew dark as fear gave way to anger. Was that all she was to him, a freak? What about Aunt Petunia? Did she think Haley was a freak too?

The floorboards groaned as Haley stomped over to her bed and let herself fall down face first onto the mattress. She pushed her face into her pillow and screamed as loud as she could.

She flipped over and stared at the ceiling for several minutes, absentmindedly rubbing the growing bruise on the crown of her head. She tried to remember everything she could about the way the Dursleys had treated her throughout her life. A half hour later, Haley was struck by a realization that made her sick.

 _The Dursleys don't love me. They never have._

It was so obvious now that she thought about it. All of the strange inconsistencies in the Dursleys' behavior led to this conclusion.

The difference in the ways they treated her and Dudley was a key example. She had wondered on numerous occasions why it seemed Dudley got preferential treatment. She rationalized it away so many times. _It's just because he's their real child. It's just because he's a boy. It's just because he's spoiled. It's just because he's more dependent._

These were all excuses she'd tell herself for why Dudley was pampered, and she was given much less affection, but now the real reason was crystal clear. Dudley was loved; she was not.

Haley felt numb. Was her entire childhood a lie? She'd always assumed that the Dursleys loved her even though they never explicitly said it, because that's what families do, right? They love each other.

If she could be so wrong about the Dursleys was she wrong about her other relationships? Did Hermione and Ron love her? Did Luna love her? Did Ginny love her?

The sting of tears began to form behind Haley's eyes. She was so confused; she didn't know what to think. She needed to talk to somebody, but the only person she'd ever been able to talk about these things with was… Sirius.

A silent sob escaped as Haley began crying in earnest. She rolled onto her side, hugging her pillow, and felt her arm brush something cold.

The mirror. Harry.

Haley lifted herself up, so that she sat cross-legged, holding the mirror in front of her. "Harry," she said with a sniff.

A moment later she cause sight of herself in the mirror and cringed. She held the sleeve of her shirt between her fingers and palm and began damage control on her makeup for a few frantic seconds before Harry's face appeared.

The nervous yet hopeful smile on Harry's face shifted when he saw her, his brow furrowing. "Haley? Are you… are you alright?" he asked.

Haley opened her mouth to respond, but no words came out. Her mouth closed and reopened a couple times in a manner reminiscent of a goldfish.

"Haley? Can you hear me?" said Harry, concern creeping into his voice.

"I – Yes, I can here you," Haley answered.

Harry waited for her to continue, but she didn't. "What's wrong?"

Haley paused gain, unsure how to start. "I talked to Uncle Vernon and Aunt Petunia."

Harry's expression darkened. "About what?"

"After we talked, I wanted to see what she would do if I pushed her about Mum. I asked if Mum ever showed her any magic."

Harry cringed.

"She tried to shut me up, but I kept pushing her about it, and then Uncle Vernon exploded, knocked over the table and started screaming at me." Haley said, her voice trembling.

The corners of Harry's mouth turned into a sympathetic smile. "I could have told you that would happen," Harry said. His neutral tone indicated that indeed he was not surprised at the revelation.

"You don't understand, Vernon and Petunia have always treated me well," insisted Haley.

"Maybe it's because you're a girl," he stated, his voice flat.

Haley opened her mouth to give an indignant response but balked at his guarded expression. He had refused to speak on the matter earlier, but she felt inclined to press him.

"They are good people. Sure they are stricter on me than Dudley, and maybe Vernon is a bit magiphobic, but I'm sure a ton of muggles are."

He sighed, exasperated, and ran a hand through his messy black hair. "They shouldn't treat you any differently than Dudley! They are your family, they owe you that much!" he growled.

"What? They've provided me food, clothes and a roof over my head without ever being asked to take me in. If anything I owe them!" she exclaimed.

Harry's jaw dropped.

Haley's expression shifted from outrage to realization at what she just said. This was the exact type of rhetoric Uncle Vernon spat at her when she needed to ask for something. "I…" She did not know what else to say.

"Look I'll just give it to you straight. I know you think Vernon and Petunia are good people, but let me tell you what they are capable of. They have treated me like shit my entire life. I grew up sleeping in the cupboard under the stairs. I missed half my meals and never got to eat until I was full."

Haley flinched. The cupboard beneath the stairs was tiny, barely large enough to hold a few boxes and an old telly. Why would they make a child sleep there when there was a perfectly good bedroom upstairs?

"They never paid me any attention as a child, even when I was really young. My earliest memories are of me watching Dudley getting hugs and kisses and everything he ever wanted and me wishing I had somebody to comfort me or tuck me into my tiny, uncomfortable cot at night. That was the predominant theme in my life growing up. The Dursleys going out of their way to show me that Dudley was a member of their family and I wasn't. And even…" his voice cracked, and his monologue halted. He had an ashamed look on his face, indicating that he wished he had not just spilled this very personal secret.

Haley just gaped, indecision rushing through her. Should she try and comfort him or would he be offended? Not for the first time, she wished she understood how boys worked. Then again, Harry was the same person as her wasn't he? She decided just to respond as she would have wanted.

"Harry," she began, and the look Harry gave her resembled that of a cornered animal. "Fuck the Dursleys. We don't need them."

His look of surprise was so satisfying that she couldn't stop her mouth from curling into a lopsided grin.

He started nodding, slowly at first, but his conviction grew as he spoke. "Yeah, you're right. Who treats a child like that? I didn't do anything to them. As far as I know, our mum and dad didn't do anything to them. Petunia was, and still is, a petty, envious bitch who would rather bring others down than better herself, and Vernon is a cruel, bigoted, bully who takes his anger problems out on little kids to make himself feel more powerful." His face contorted in disgust at the thought. She could tell by the angle of the mirror and by the way the ceiling was moving, that he was standing now, pacing back and forth. "They are pathetic. I shouldn't waste any more time resenting them, because they aren't worth the time."

Haley could hardly disagree with anything he said. His assessment of Aunt Petunia and Uncle Vernon was spot on, but she did not hold the same apparent resentment that he did. They had always treated her with at least some respect, though she was beginning to think that any respect she felt from Vernon was either feigned by him or misinterpreted by her.

Harry, who also seemed to be lost in thought, was the first to speak. "They, er… You said they treated you alright though right?"

"Yes, well, for the most part. They always give Dudley preferential treatment, but Aunt Petunia has always been kind to me, if a little strict. I guess Uncle Vernon has always just ignored me now that I think about it," she explained, trying to remember if she'd ever traded more than a few sentences with Uncle Vernon.

He nodded along. "And you got your own room and everything? The little one upstairs?" he asked, hopefully.

"Yes, I guess Aunt Petunia empathized with a little girl more than a little boy," she said with a shrug, not wanting to pretend like her Petunia was any better than his.

"That's good," he murmured, lost in thought. Then, he looked up suddenly as if just remembering something. "Are you okay now though? I mean, after Uncle Vernon blew up on you? Sorry if I made it about myself," he apologized, a concerned look on his face.

"Yes, I'm fine," Haley replied distractedly, studying his face. There were few boys that could pull off the dark and brooding look without coming off as whiny, but the grimace that seemed to constantly mar his face was actually quite attractive.

He had bags under his eyes from lack of sleep, something she no doubt had as well due to the year of mental torment from Voldemort, but otherwise his eyes were the same has hers. He had her father's nose. _Their father's_ nose. He also had James' high cheek bones, but his jawline was more rounded, immature-looking, but gaunt and without the baby fat she would expect on a teen going through puberty. Had he really been denied meals? That would explain why he seemed to be missing baby fat in all the expected placed.

She noticed he had patchy stubble growing in around his chin. _I bet nobody had taught him how to shave_ , she thought.

He cleared his throat, and she looked up to his eyes to see him expecting her to continue. "Oh and, er…" She felt her face grow warm, embarrassed at being caught staring. "Well you know in the doorway from the kitchen to the sitting room where Dudley always stubs his toes?" He nodded in affirmation. This was so weird! "Yeah, I sort of fell over and slammed my head into the corner," she explained, rubbing at the welt beginning to form on the back of her head.

"Ouch, do you feel dizzy or anything? Light-headed? Nauseous?"

She glared at him. "I don't have a concussion, Harry. I know how they feel."

"Do you?" he asked in surprise. "How did you get a concussion?"

"Quidditch."

"You play?" His eyes lit up. "What position?"

"Keeper."

"What! Really?"

"Of course not! What kind of female Harry Potter would I be if I played keeper?" she laughed.

"Not one I want to associate with. Seeker then?"

"Yep."

The two continued to discuss Quidditch and other light topics late into the night, being careful to avoid that looming topic that was always creeping up on them. Sirius.


	3. Chapter 3

Self Reflection

ooooOOOOooooOOOOoooo

Chapter 3

Over the next two weeks, Harry and Haley met a few times a day to talk to each other through the mirrors. They had prearranged a time to meet each night, but would spontaneously strike up conversations from time to time if one of them called the other during the day. Since they spent a great deal of time just lazing around in their room, it wasn't too difficult to find some time to talk.

Harry found himself spending far too much time lying in his bed, waiting for Haley to call him, and today was no exception. He checked his watch, which read 11:24. He let out a long, dramatic sigh as he closed his eyes and willed time to pass faster.

Haley and he had established a bit of a morning routine. They were both early risers, thanks to Aunt Petunia, and would wake up around seven o'clock and begin their morning chores. Haley usually finished quicker. Whether that was because he had more chores or because she was faster, Harry didn't know, but he secretly believed it was the former.

The past couple weeks had gone by faster than any time he could remember at Privet Drive. The monotony of isolation from people who cared to talk to him was broken by the ability to call Haley anytime he wanted.

With that said, he often found himself waiting for her to call him, as he didn't want to appear too eager to talk to her. It was silly, he knew, and surely other boys his age would hold no such reservations, but here he was, waiting.

He checked his watch again.

11:25

"Grr, sod it." He reached next to the mirror sitting next to him and brought it to his face. He studied himself in the mirror, and tried to tamp down his hair, but it was a losing battle.

"Haley."

Her face appeared a moment later, as though she'd been keeping it close. "Hi, Harry! Good morning," she said, an exuberant, self-satisfied smile on her face.

"Yeees, great morning isn't it?" he responded sarcastically, feigning annoyance. They played this game every morning. The one who was able to wait for the other to call would act chipper and accomplished, while the one who called would be grumpy.

Harry was usually the grumpy one.

The two continued their verbal sparring, while they compared chores. Harry was worse off, having to clean the bathroom and pull weeds.

"So I'm pretty sure I have Tonks today. I heard a really loud crack that woke me up this morning. That girl really needs to learn to apparate more quietly," Haley said.

"Yeah, that probably contributed to her scoring so low on stealth during Auror training," agreed Harry.

"Who did you get today?"

"Moody or Kingsley, haven't heard a peep."

They had determined that most of the order members had a tell that would give away their presences at Privet Drive. Tonks had a signature loud apparation. Snape smelled like his potions lab. Dedalus Diggle could be heard pacing back and forth constantly.

Both Harry and Haley agreed it was annoying to have minders, but they were thankful for the security.

"You'd think you would be able to here Moody's wooden leg when he moves around, that thing is so loud," said Haley.

"He probably spells it silent or something. I wouldn't put it past him to put a silencing enchantment on it," Harry suggested, stroking his half-grown, scraggly beard in contemplation. "Constant Vigilance and all that, you know?"

There was silence, causing him to look down at the mirror. Haley was studying him carefully; she tended to do that just before giving him some life advice, and she did not disappoint. A moment later she spoke.

"You know, you should really shave your face."

Harry's expression turned guarded, and he felt more than a little self-conscious. Of course he knew he needed to shave. Aunt Petunia had told him twice just this morning. In a show of abnormal kindness, she'd even gotten him a razor to use. If Harry didn't know any better, he would say she was being nice, but he did know better. She told him, "I won't want the neighbors to think we are harboring a homeless person in our house." Yeah, that makes sense.

He contemplated keeping it just to irk her, but his damned beard and mustache itched like hell. The only thing stopping him was that he didn't know how, and who was going to teach him? Uncle Vernon? Hah.

Haley, ever perceptive, seemed to understand this and voiced her thoughts. "It's ok if you don't know how. Merlin knows Vernon isn't going to teach you."

"Who else is there then? Shall I go ask Moody out there?" Harry deadpanned. "I don't think a razor can even cut through that man's beard."

Haley giggled. Yes, she was a giggler, and it made her eyes light up in a way that seemed to cut through the grief of loss. Harry liked making her giggle. "Of course not, Harry. I'll teach you!"

He eyed her warily. "You shave your face?"

"What? No."

"You mean your…" He paused, hesitating to voice his next thought.

Haley's eyes bugged out, and she gasped. "Harry! Not that you fucking perv!" She looked scandalized. "I mean my legs, and my arms! Merlin, help me."

Harry's face burned, and he turned away, ashamed. _Great job Harry. Open mouth, insert foot._

"Do you at least have a razor?" she asked, her tone still harsh.

"Yes," he replied, weakly.

"Good, call me after dinner at the usual time, and I'll teach you to shave."

"Ok." He sat there, thinking of how best to apologize for his rudeness.

"Byyye, Harry," she said, drawing out the word 'bye.' Her voice was all attitude.

"Bye."

Before her image faded, he heard her mutter something about "wizards always thinking with their wands."

Harry buried his head in his hands, blushing still. "Hedwig, please kill me."

ooooOOOOooooOOOOoooo

Harry sat at the dinner table, pushing food around his plate. _Bloody peas_. He didn't like peas. They were his least favorite vegetable.

"Stop playing with your food boy. Eat it or bin it," spat Vernon.

Harry glared at him in response but complied, choking down the remainder of his meal. _Bloody Dursleys._ He didn't like the Dursleys. They were his least favorite people… Well except for Snape and maybe Malfoy and probably Voldemort if he could even be considered a person.

Harry had been moping around the house all day, very dramatically. He'd fouled up bad this morning with Haley, and there was nothing he could do to fix it until eight o'clock when he mirrored her.

Even then, he didn't know what to say. Should he apologize? Should he never mention it again, ever? He couldn't even think about whom to ask for advice, because every time he thought of that he was hit with overwhelming grief when he considered who he'd usually turn to with questions like this.

Despite his sarcastic joke earlier, he found himself looking out the window to discern who his Order guard was today. He kept hoping to see the edge of Remus' shabby robes or the top of Mr. Weasley's balding head, so he could talk to one of them.

By the time eight o'clock rolled around, Harry was a nervous wreck. He was sitting in front of his desk in front of a half dozen crumpled sheets of parchment, reading over his last attempt at an apology note.

"Harry," came his doppelganger's voice from the mirror on the desk beside him.

He closed his eyes and took a deep, steading breath. "Wish me luck, Hedwig." He turned to her cage, and it was empty. She'd hone out hunting. "Bloody owls." He said, maturely.

"Harry Potter."

Reluctantly, he pulled the mirror in front of him, and tried to put on a neutral expression.

"Hey."

The smile she had been wearing faded. "Harry, are you alright?"

"Look Haley," he glanced at the piece of parchment on the desk in front of him. "I'm really sorry that I said that thing before. It was im – "

She waved him off. "Oh don't worry about it Harry, I'm not mad. It's not a big deal. It was actually kind of funny after I thought about it a bit."

Utter confusion struck him and his mouth hung open loosely. "What… Really?"

She giggled. "Yeah, anyway…"

Whatever else she said was lost in the all-consuming wave of relief that washed over him. Had he really spent all day worrying about something she dismissed thirty seconds after their call ended. _Bloody girls_.

"Hello? Did you hear me?" she asked.

"Err, no. What did you say."

She groaned. "I said I hope you kissed your beard goodbye because it's shaving time!"

He grinned, his first real smile all day. "Let's do this."

"Have your razor?"

"No."

"Merlin, what have you been doing all day? We get off the mirror and you just forget about me? Go get your razor and meet me in the loo."

Harry sheepishly glanced down at the apology note, still grasped in his hand.

ooooOOOOooooOOOOoooo

"Alright, do you have your razor?"

"Check."

"Shaving cream?"

"Check."

"Aftershave?"

"Check."

"Ok. I'm going to show you how by shaving my legs. You just watch at first. Once you see how it's done, you can shave your face. Sound good?"

Harry gulped. She was going to let him watch her shave her legs? "Yes, sounds good."

She was sitting on the floor of the bathroom with her hair set into a loose braid. "To keep it out of my face," she had told him, when he asked. She wore a fluffy, baby blue bathrobe that pooled around her on the floor as she sat.

It was the first time, as far as he could tell, that he had seen her without makeup. She didn't need it in his opinion. The way the light pooled at the curve of her cheek bones highlighted the natural rosy color that collected there, when he teased her.

"Ok, pay attention," she said. Harry didn't need to be told twice, and he watched, transfixed as her naked leg slid out from her robe. Haley was careful to tie the robe closed to prevent it from falling open as she worked.

Harry's mind glazed over as his eyes slipped down the pale, smooth skin of her thigh to her knee, passed her toned calf to her foot that was planted on the ground.

She stretched her ankle, so that her foot arched, putting the weight of her leg on the tips of her toes. Harry found her delicate feet captivating. There was something alluring about the way her tiny toes spread apart as she shifted her weight. He'd never seen anything like this before, and a flush ran through his entire body.

Realizing that he was staring, slack-jawed at her exposed leg, he closed his mouth and looked up at her. She was sitting on the floor of the bathroom next to the bathtub, with her back against the wall, giving the mirror a profile view of her body. One leg, the one furthest from him, laid straight, flat against the ground. The other leg was bent at a sixty degree angle, giving him a perfect view of the action.

Her robe was tied tight around her, open just enough to allow one leg to slide out. The end of the robe was tucked under her bum, hiding the roundness of her backside beneath a fluffy layer of cotton. Harry was not put out by that last bit; he had an excellent imagination.

She picked up her bottle of shower gel and squeezed a line of the translucent, aqua-colored fluid down the length of her leg. Harry had to prevent himself from letting out a guttural sigh as she began spreading it onto her leg. The skin looked so smooth and soft, that he could almost feel it beneath his fingers, and his hands clenched into fists.

"Since you're using shaving cream, you need to work it into a lather first, but then you spread it onto your skin. You need to take your time to make sure you cover the whole area; otherwise, you might miss a spot."

Harry struggled to comprehend her words and she made small circles up the inside of her thigh. He shifted his position to alleviate the growing tightness in his trousers.

"Now, run your hands up and down to feel which direction your hairs grow. This is very important, because it makes the different between a close shave and a rough one."

He nodded feeling numb yet tingly all over.

Then she grabbed her razor and dipped it in the bowl of warm water she had prepared. She drew the razor down her shin, then repeated the motion again and again, shaving her leg. "Now you begin to shave, making sure to go _with_ the grain, or else you'll get razor burn. Your skin will get all red and irritated, and it itches. Doesn't sound fun, right?"

"No," he managed to say.

"After the first pass, you can make another pass going against the grain," she explained. Every now and then she would glance at him to make sure he was watching. Harry didn't think he would be able to peel his eyes away if Voldemort himself walked through the door.

Then, she straightened out her leg and propped it up on the edge of the tub, causing the robe to ride up her thigh an inch. "Some places are harder to shave than others, and sometimes you have to change positions and stretch the skin to keep it taut. If you don't, then you might get cuts." She bent her body, reaching forward to shave the side of her knee, where the skin had been loose, but was now drawn tight across the joint of her knee.

She was amazing. He looked up to her face to see a peculiar expression there. Her eyes were heavy lidded, and her cheeks were flushed. The corners of her mouth were drawn downwards, and her upper lip curled upwards, causing her nostrils to flair slightly.

Her instructions continued as she shaved, rinsed and moisturized both of her legs. By the time she was finished, Harry, in the face of ultimate distraction, managed to get the information he needed, and he took his turn shaving, while she watched and provided instructions. They agreed to call each other after they had washed up and prepared for bed.

It was definitely a good learning experience.

ooooOOOOooooOOOOoooo

Harry found himself relaxing on his bed, the cool sting of aftershave tingling his face and neck. Haley could be seen in a similar position in the mirror next to him. Both were content, so Harry laid there, hands behind his head, staring into the ceiling. Harry's mind was racing, awash with emotion, and his heart beat fast in his chest, even after the intensity of the moment had passed.

"Haley?"

"Yes?"

"I like you."

A long silence reigned between them.

"I like you too, Harry."

He thought about the time they had shared together, and the connection they had forged in such a short time. There was something special between them. It meant something to him that she could cheer him up when he was sad, and it meant something to him that she could entertain him when he was bored.

How had they even come to know each other? Was it a fluke of magic that they had connected? They had been calling Sirius at the time they met. Sirius. Was it through him that their destinies had been intertwined? Were they meant to help each other heal from his death? Even if it were just some cosmic accident, it was certainly true that she would understand what he was going through better than anyone. Sirius, both of their Sirii, would want them get over his death however was possible.

"Haley?"

"Yes, Harry."

"Thanks for teaching me how to shave." There were unspoken words there, woven into a web too complex to unravel.

"You're welcome."

The conversation had reached a fork. To the right, was grief and heartache but also closure, and to the left was the easy way out, denial and repression. Was this something he really wanted? He had spent weeks quelling the anguish that came to him at the mere thought of his godfather. Hermione had tried to get him to talk about it, thrice, and he had rebuked her, each time.

His thoughts warred, but eventually his decision was made, and he forked to the right. Harry took a deep steadying breath, not looking into the mirror as he spoke. "You know I always thought that—I mean I hoped anyway…" he began, but his voice cracked, "…Sirius would teach me." Harry couldn't stifle the muted sob that escaped him.

He buried his head in his hands, and sorrow washed over him. It was too much; he couldn't handle it. He had made a mistake, but couldn't stop the downpour of tears that streamed down his face, and his mind raced to think about something – Anything, but the crushing despair threatening to take him over.

Then, Haley spoke. "Harry." Her voice was small but also comforting. "Harry, hold my hand."

Confused, he looked into the mirror. Her hand pressed palm down on the mirror, and her fingers spread eagle. Harry's hand moved onto the mirror, matching hers, and he felt empathy radiating through the connection.

"I just miss him so bad," Harry croaked.

"It's ok to miss him," she soothed with a sniff, and so he did. His fingers were pressed, white knuckled, into hers, and he drew on her strength.

"It's okay to cry."

So he did. Harry let himself feel the overwhelming guilt that had been suppressed for weeks. He felt the utter sorrow and loneliness of losing a parental figure for a third time. Why was fate so cruel that he would be given a second chance at having somebody to look up to and count on, just to have them ripped away when he needed them most?

Harry silently cried, trying not to attract the attention of his relatives, but Haley saw no such need, and he heard her sobs coming from the mirror to mingle with his.

They stayed like that until all of Harry's tears had been spilled, and his grief was spent. It was still there but significantly reduced, like a slow ache in his chest instead of debilitating agony. Eventually, Harry spoke. "Do you think he loved us?"

"Yes, of course he did," she replied, sounding confident.

Harry's voice came out in a whisper. "He never told me."

"Me neither…" There was sadness in her tone, and then conviction. "Love comes from the heart, not from words."

After mulling that over, Harry's head dropped in defeat. "But why couldn't he just say it?"

"Sirius had a hard life too. It was way more messed up than even ours," she said.

Harry nodded. "Yeah that's true. His own parents disowned him. He lost my dad because of Peter, and he spent thirteen years in Azkaban." He sat there, thinking through that line of thought. "Sirius told Peter that he would have died for his friends."

"To him that was the ultimate show of friendship," Haley, continued, drawing on his line of thought. "The ultimate show of love. He died for us…"

"Because he loved us," Harry finished, a sad smile on his face. He finally understood why the thought of Sirius caused him so much pain. He understood the confused emotions that had always surrounded his relationship with Sirius. For the first time, Harry Potter understood love, and it tasted bittersweet.


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter 4

"Wait, so you're telling me you actually went into the Chamber alone?" Haley asked, incredulous.

"I had to! Ginny was alone in the Chamber with the Basilisk!"

"You should have got one of the professors."

"We did, Lockhart was with us!"

Did he think she was stupid? "Oh yeah, I'm _sure_ you brought him along to help."

Harry paused. "Ok, maybe we just wanted to expose him as a fraud, but he was still with us! I mean, there's not much I could have really done. Besides, you didn't have a professor either."

"Well if you hadn't let Hermione get petrified, she would have been there to help. Hermione _was_ there with _us_ , so we didn't need a professor. We had a good plan!" In her universe, Hermione had never been petrified, and she, Ron and Hermione had gone in the Chamber to destroy the basilisk together.

"Hermione went off by herself, I couldn't have done anything about that! Admit it, you're just as reckless as I am." Harry glared at her.

"No, I'm not."

"Did you or did you not ride thestrals to the ministry with five other teenagers?"

He had a point. "Sirius was in trouble! I had no other choice."

"Sure, sure," he said, exaggeratedly nodding his head,

"It's true!" she exclaimed. "At least I didn't try to face a dragon on a sodding broom!"

"Sorry if I didn't want half the wizarding world to know I had an invisibility cloak!"

"They didn't see the cloak! It was invisible!"

"Right, they just figured you could perform a perfect disillusionment charm." He was better at sarcasm than she. It was impressive. "And did you or did you not face Voldemort alone at age eleven?"

"There wasn't enough potion for two people. I couldn't just let Quirrell get the stone! _You_ thought it was Snape."

"He was the only logical choice!"

"Obviously not." Haley flipped her hair over her shoulder with a flick of her head, enjoying the way his eyes followed her hair. "I'm ashamed of your Hermione for missing that one."

"Err— yeah, she was probably too busy trying to get Ron and I to do our homework," he said, with a sheepish, half-smile. She liked that smile, on him and on herself.

"Anyway, after the cave in I headed into the chamber…" Harry proceeded to explain the events that occurred within the Chamber of Secrets.

Haley was happy to have somebody to share these experiences with. After addressing Sirius's death a couple weeks ago, the two had crossed a threshold in their relationship, and it opened up a whole new area of discussion. Normally, she didn't like talking about her yearly exploits with anybody but Ron and Hermione, but Harry understood what she went through. What's more, he had experienced most of what she had with a few notable differences.

Some of the things he told her were almost unbelievable. He had slain a basilisk with a sword at twelve. He won the Triwizard Tournament and dueled Voldemort at fourteen. He was a freaking superhero.

Haley was considered a prodigy in her own dimension, but killing a basilisk with the crow of a rooster wasn't the same thing as stabbing it through the brain with Gryffindor's sword and getting bitten in the process. She tended to go for brains, and he apparently went for brawn. Another difference between their dimensions is that Harry's adventures weren't known to the general public in his dimension, while Haley's were common knowledge in her universe.

ooooOOOOooooOOOOoooo

Later that night found Haley lying on her bed, next to a stack of board games.

"Four, go directly to jail," Harry said, with a satisfied smirk.

They had set up the game of Monopoly in each of their dimensions and rolled the dice onto the mirror. The other person read the value of the side of the die facing down.

"What! Again, how is this possible?" asked Haley.

"I'm just better than you."

"That was rhetorical, and this isn't a game of skill. This game is about luck."

"Well, then I'm luckier than you," he said with a shrug.

Looking around the board, she couldn't really disagree. He had numerous houses and even some hotels on his properties, while she was already being forced to mortgage off hers.

"You know what, I think I'm done with this game," she said, disdain in her voice.

"Yeah, I'm starting to get bored too," agreed Harry.

The two packed up the game, being careful to put everything in the right place. Not that it really mattered, because each of their boards was half-crumpled from when Dudley had thrown a temper tantrum and stomped on it when he was younger.

Harry asked, "So what now, Chess again?"

Haley's hands came up to cover her face. "Grr, Harry I can't keep doing this. I'm going stir crazy."

There was silence on the other end, until Harry finally said, "Ok… I guess I'll let you go until tomorrow—or whenever— if you want some time alone." His voice was strained, and he was looking down at his lap.

Her expression softened. "No, that's not what I meant, Harry. It's just that I'm tired of sitting around and playing board games and talking. It's great – don't get me wrong, this is the best summer I've ever had at the Dursleys'… because of you." She felt warmth rush to her face, but she continued anyway.

"I wish we could go take a walk to the park, or sit on the lawn and drink a cuppa, or go see a film. I just want… more."

Harry sighed, and ran his hand through his hair, but stopped halfway and scowled at his hand. It reminded Haley of the memory she'd seem in Snape's office last year.

"I've felt that way for a while now… I don't like to think about it. That I'm never going to get to meet you in person," Harry said.

She was about to respond when there was a tap on her window.

"There's an owl at my window," she said, and as it came out of her mouth, she heard Harry say the exact same words.

"That was weird," said Harry.

Hayley giggled, before walking to the window and letting the owl into her room. It landed on her bed with a hoot, and presented its leg. Attached was a tightly furled scroll, which was tied with a burgundy length of string. She unrolled the letter and read its contents.

 _Dear Haley,_

 _If convenient to you, I shall call at number four, Privet Drive this coming Friday at eleven P.M. to escort you to the Burrow, where you have been invited to spend the remainder of your school holidays._

 _If you are agreeable, I should also be glad of your assistance in a matter to which I hope to attend on the way to the Burrow. I shall explain this more fully when I see you._

 _Kindly send your answer by return of this owl. Hoping to see you this Friday,_

 _I am, yours most sincerely,_

 _Albus Dumbledore._

"It's from Dumbledore," Haley said.

Harry took a while longer to finish the letter, but eventually said, "Friday, that's in three days," more to himself than to her.

"Let's check to see if we got the same letter first. I'll read mine."

She proceeded to read her letter, and the two confirmed that the letters were identical, down to the punctuation, except for their names.

"That's kind of amazing," Haley said, "that these arrived at the exact same time with the exact same message."

"Yeah, you'd think there would be more differences between our dimensions. You know, the butterfly effect and all," replied Harry.

Haley gawked at Harry. "How do _you_ know about the butterfly effect? Have you read about chaos theory?" she asked.

Harry looked affronted. "Is it that odd that I might know something? Anyway, Hermione told me about it one time when we were talking about the time travel in third year."

"Ahh yeah, she was the one that gave me the book about it."

"That girl reads way too much."

"There's nothing wrong with reading," Haley said. "You sound like Ron."

"Well, maybe if you didn't spend so much time reading, you might stab a basilisk through the skull too," he said with a superior grin.

"Oh, spare me the macho act, Harry. You don't have to impress me, I already fancy you." Haley's cheeks burned upon realizing what she said. Did she really fancy him like that? Should she? The topic was far too confusing for her to address right now, and given that Harry's face was drawn into an unreadable expression, he was probably thinking along the same lines.

She decided to take the safe route and change the subject. "Err, anyway, back to Dumbledore's letter. He said he'll be here to pick me —I mean— us —that's so weird— up on Friday." She flushed redder as she stumbled over her words.

Thankfully, Harry accepted the new topic without comment. He had gone back to scanning the letter. "Wonder what he needs our assistance with," Harry said, apparently not struggling with the pronouns as she did. Harry seemed to be able to take everything in stride.

"I don't think it will be dangerous, otherwise he probably wouldn't take us along," Haley said.

Harry looked down at her and his jaw was set. "Maybe he's done with keeping us in the dark this year."

Haley stared at him through the mirror. There was something in his eyes that implied more than his words. The pair had stayed away from so far, The Prophecy. She hadn't told anyone. Not Ron or Hermione, and she had been planning to keep it that way. Until now. "You know, I think I have an explanation for why our worlds are so similar," she said.

Curiosity spread across his face. "Yeah, what's that?"

"Maybe it has to happen a certain way…" She paused, carefully choosing her next words. "Maybe it was foretold."

Harry's eyes widened. "You mean, The Prophecy," he said. His voice was full of wonder and not bitterness as she might have expected. "That actually could explain it! Certain events have to occur a certain way to… well, to fulfill the prophecy, anyway."

"Yeah, exactly! I wasn't entirely sure if The Prophecy existed in your universe. I mean, I assumed it did."

"What does yours say?" he asked.

" _The one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord approaches… Born to those who have thrice defied him, born as the seventh month dies… And the Dark Lord will mark her as his equal, but she will have the power the Dark Lord knows not… And either must die at the hand of the other for neither can live while the other survives… The one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord will be born as the seventh month dies,_ " she recited. A shiver ran up her spine. No matter how many time she heard it, it was still unsettling.

Harry, who looked similarly discomforted, said, "That's the same as mine, except, you know, he instead of she."

"I wonder what this power is that we're supposed to have."

"I don't know. Dumbledore reckons it's love, but I can't possibly see how that's supposed to defeat Voldemort."

"Our mum's love, maybe. We have protection against him," she said.

"I don't, mine was removed in the graveyard after the third task of the Triwizard Tournament remember?"

"Oh yeah, that's rough," Haley said. "Well, that throws out one option. Unless our dimensions are different in that way."

"Everything else is the same, and I can't see how that would give you that much of an advantage. So what if he can't touch you? He doesn't need to touch you."

"Do you think we can beat him, Harry?" Haley asked. She had thought about this a lot, and she couldn't see any universe in which she—or he—could beat him, but if there were any version of her that could, it would be Harry.

"I don't see how anyone could beat him, much less me. I'm certain Dumbledore could if he were fifty years younger, but now? I watched them duel, and it really tired Dumbledore out."

"I'm scared Harry. He knows about The Prophecy and he's after us. Not just as revenge for defeating him when we were babies, he sees us as an actual threat!" she said.

"I know, me too. I just… damn, there's nothing we can do!" Harry said, his voice filling with vehemence.

Haley paused for a moment, feeding off his strength. "Yes there is, Harry."

His eyes narrowed at her words.

"We can get better. We'll train and get strong enough to defeat him," Haley said, her voice sounding more certain than she really felt.

"Yeah, you're right. We just need to train. At the very least we won't go down without a fight."

"He'll have to kill us over our dead bodies," said Haley. Harry grinned at her morbid joke.

"So it's decided, we start training as soon as we get to Hogwarts."

"No, we need to start immediately. We can start by ordering some new defense books."

"We can read books that Sirius and Remus bought us last Christmas," Harry said.

"You haven't read them yet? Oh, Harry."

He gave her an unapologetic smile. "I was a little busy all semester, what with dealing with Umbridge."

"And what about this summer, have you been too busy not having any homework?"

"Hey! You're the one distracting me. I was going to read them until you showed up."

"Well, I'm glad you spend every spare second of your time thinking about me"—she returned shot him a coy look—"but you should probably read them."

"I refuse to believe you've read all six books in six months," Harry said.

"Ok, I've only read the first two."

Harry laughed. "But you've had six entire months!"

"I've been reading other things!"

"Like what, Petunia's romance novels?"

Haley's cheeks grew warm. _I have read a couple, sue me_ , she thought. "No!"

"Rubbish. I bet you've been fantasizing about a knight in shining armor saving you and taking you off to Babylon on horseback."

Haley stared at him for a moment. The scenario sounded too familiar. "That's an oddly specific reference, Harry. Been doing a bit of reading?"

Harry ducked his face out of the view of the mirror. "I might have glanced at one or two when I was younger. Dudley said there was sex in them. I had no other choice!"

Haley burst into peals of laughter, and Harry joined her. They spent the rest of the night discussing plans for training. They decided to ask Dumbledore about it when they saw him on Friday, and they weren't going to take no for an answer.

ooooOOOOooooOOOOoooo

Over the next couple days the two were unable to spend much time on the mirror. Upon learning that they would be leaving Privet Drive earlier than expected, Petunia had given them a long list of chores to complete before leaving. Between that and packing up their things, they had not found much time to meet.

It wasn't until Friday evening that the two were able to finally sit and talk.

"Why," said Harry with a groan, "did she wait until Thursday to tell me the loo needed to be painted?"

"She trusted you to paint the loo?" asked Haley.

"They made me paint the kitchen when I was thirteen," he said.

Haley didn't know whether to be appalled or impressed. "I got off easy. Just had to detail Vernon's hideous car, weed the garden and clean the house," she said.

"You always get off easy."

"That's because the Dursleys actually _like_ me," she said impulsively. When she realized what she had said, she looked down into the mirror worried, but Harry wasn't fazed. He just laughed derisively.

"Isn't that the truth."

Haley smiled sadly. At least he could make light of it. The two sat without speaking for a while. Sometimes they did this, and it was a testament to how comfortable they were with each other that the silence was not perturbing.

Haley wasn't sure how to feel. On one hand, she was excited to leave Privet Drive and spend the rest of the summer with Ron and the Weasleys at the Burrow. On the other hand, it would mean significantly reduced contact with Harry.

There was something about him that made her feel special, like he was hers and hers alone. He didn't know anyone from her dimension, and she didn't have to compete for his attention with anyone else. When they were talking on the mirror she was his only concern. She liked that.

"Harry?" she said.

"Yeah?"

"I don't think we're going to be able to mirror as often once we go to the Burrow."

"No, I don't reckon we will."

"You— erm well, I'm going to miss this," she said, her voice quavering.

Harry did not respond at first, and Haley grew increasingly vulnerable. Did he feel the same way? Surely he did. Right? He was looking away from the mirror with a far off expression on his face.

"I think… this is the first time I'll be sad to leave the Dursleys'."

Haley beamed, but her smile quickly diminished at the thought of the Dursleys mistreating Harry. She tried not to dwell on it. "So I guess we could arrange a time to meet each week."

"Yeah, we could do that, but we have to pick a time when we can get away for an hour or two. At night or something."

"Are you not going to tell them about me?" she asked.

He looked sheepish. "Err, well, I guess not. I hadn't really thought about it. I just assumed I wouldn't say anything."

"Want me all to yourself, do you?" she said with a teasing grin. It was so cute when he blushed.

"Maybe I do, so what? Put Hermione on next time you see her."

"No!"

"Why not, do you want me all to yourself?" he said, mockingly.

"Maybe I do," she said with a giggle that put a brilliant smile on Harry's face. For some reason he kept smiling when she giggled. It made her want to giggle more often. "Ok, so when should we meet?"

"Hmm, Mrs. Weasley always has Ron do chores on Sunday mornings. I usually join in, but she doesn't make me. We could do it then," he said.

"Yeah that sounds good, so around, ten o'clock on Sundays?"

"Sure."

They continued talking as eleven o'clock approached and said their goodbyes. At ten-fifty, Haley carefully packed the mirror away. It was now one of her most beloved possessions, a link to Sirius, her godfather and Harry, her self-reflection.

Dumbledore arrived exactly on time, as per usual, and after a rather tense, but also somewhat comical, conversation with the Dursleys and Kreacher, the two set off on Dumbledore's errand.

After her rather uncomfortable first experience with side-along apparition, Haley was walking alongside Dumbledore down a narrow street within the village of Budleigh Babberton.

"I must say, Haley, you appear to be in rather high spirits, much to my surprise. Last we spoke, you were understandably disheartened."

"Well, Sir, I had a good summer. I worked through some issues," Haley said.

"Ahh, yes, that is quite good news indeed. I didn't take the Dursleys for the type to offer emotional support." His tone suggested that he was understating the fact.

"You're right. They aren't, Sir. I made a new…" Haley struggled to find the right word, but decided to settle on, "friend."

Dumbledore glanced at her sidelong and gave her a knowing look "A new _friend_ hmm? One of the boys from Privet Drive then?"

She felt her face redden. "Yes sir, just a friend, from Privet Drive," she said.

He let out a hearty chuckle. "I see, I see. Left here." Then he gave her a poignant look, "I trust you didn't tell this new friend any information that would do best to remain hidden?"

"Yes sir, I didn't tell them anything they didn't already know," she said. It was true, Harry had already known about the prophecy.

"Excellent, excellent. I'm glad you were able to find some closure," he said, and it sounded like he meant it.

"Me too, Sir," Haley responded, and she definitely meant it."

"We turn left again."

"Sir, I was wondering if I could ask you something."

"Of course, Haley."

"I wanted to know if I could get some extra training this year. Because of the, well, you-know-what."

"Ahh, capital idea, and one that had already occurred to me. I have decided that it is time that I took a greater hand in your education."

Haley was relieved, and admittedly a little surprised. She figured she would have to put up a fight to get him to agree to the extra lessons, but this was perfect.

The pair continued on to the new Professor's house. He turned out to be an enormously fat, bald old man named Horace Slughorn, who after a discussion with Haley agreed to be the new potions teacher. Much to her dismay, Snape would be teaching Defense Against the Dark Arts.

The two left Budleigh Babberton and Apparated to the Burrow, where Dumbledore shared some parting words with her. Finally, they made their way up the driveway towards the Weasleys' house.

Haley Potter had returned to The Burrow.

ooooOOOOooooOOOOoooo

A/N: Sorry for the long delay. I've been working on my other story quite a bit. If you are a fan of Harry/Luna, you should head on over to my profile and check out my new story, Poison and Cure. As far as this story goes, I finally decided I needed a beta, so this chapter is much more polished. Big thanks to my beta for this chapter, Pashow. If anybody is concerned that we've had four chapters of almost pure dialogue, it was necessary initially, but from here on out it will begin to diverge from canon rapidly and extensively.


	5. Chapter 5

A/N: Sorry for the extended delay. It's been almost a year since I last updated, but I lost a lot of motivation to write this. I've improved a lot in my writing, and the four previous chapters don't really meet my standards. I originally planned to go back and edit the first four before posting this chapter, but I finally realized that I was never going to make any progress if I waited.

In light of that, a rewrite is in planning, but no promises when it might arrive. I figure you all prefer fresh content over improved old content anyway. I've put a lot of effort into getting better at writing, so I hope you enjoy this chapter. It clocks in at 5,619 words, the longest chapter so far.

Lastly, I finally have something of a plot planned out for the rest of the story, so I'm going to spend a few days outlining before starting Chapter 6. I hope as much as you all that it doesn't take as long as the last update. The world needs more Harry/Fem!Harry.

Self Reflection

ooooOOOOooooOOOOoooo

Chapter 5

One hundred twenty-two. There were one hundred twenty-two scorch marks, chips, and gashes in the ceiling of the Weasley Twins room. Harry had been staring at the ceiling of Fred and George's bedroom at the Burrow for over an hour and a half in an attempt to fall back asleep. He managed to squeeze in a few hours after arriving at the Burrow late last night, but lately he wasn't sleeping very well.

It started after Sirius' death. Whenever he lay in his bed at night, sleep was long in coming and brief in duration. The clock on the wall read quarter to seven in the morning, and light was already creeping in through the curtains.

"It's no use," Harry groaned. He swung his legs over the side of the bed and rested his elbows on his knees.

He couldn't figure out why he was having so much trouble sleeping. Sirius' death had definitely affected him, but he was feeling much better about it after talking to Haley. For a while he suspected Voldemort, but as Dumbledore had pointed out last night, he wasn't feeling anything from his scar.

Whenever he tried to pinpoint it, his mind came to the same uncomfortable conclusion. It was something that he'd always dealt with, but it hadn't bothered him since he was little, when he would toss and turn at night to the tune of loneliness and longing. He wanted to believe he had passed that point in his life. For it to come roaring back at almost sixteen was embarrassing.

Harry pushed away the sullen emotions and made his way down the stairs into the kitchen.

"Hello, Harry, you're up early. Trouble sleeping?"

Harry looked up to see Mr. Weasley sitting at the table reading the Daily Prophet, drinking a cup of tea. He stopped on the last step, staring at him for a moment, pondering the answer. "A little," he finally said.

He made his way over to the table and sat across from Mr. Weasley, ignoring the way his eyebrows had raised.

"Anything I can help with?"

"Not really, I think this is something I have to deal with on my own." He grabbed a slice of toast, one with a bit of char on the crust, and took a bite. As Harry poured himself a cup of tea, he felt Mr. Weasley's interested gaze.

"Well, Harry, if you change your mind, I am always willing to talk."

"Thanks," he said, and he really meant it.

Just then, the front door opened and Mrs. Weasley bustled into the dining room. "Oh, Harry dear. You're up so early. You can go back to bed you know."

"Harry's having a bit of trouble sleeping, Molly. Let him be," said Mr. Weasley.

She walked over to him and rested a hand on his shoulder. "Many of us are too, dear. I'll cook you up some breakfast, and you'll be right as rain," she said, with a pat on his arm.

"Sounds great." Harry gave her a bright smile, which she returned happily and rushed to the kitchen.

"You seem to be in a good mood, Harry," Mr. Weasley commented.

Harry could only shrug and dip his toast in his tea, causing Mr. Weasley to chuckle.

It wasn't long before Mr. Weasley headed off to his shed to tinker with his muggle gadgets, and Harry was left alone in the kitchen. He felt the sudden urge to run up to Fred's and George's room and call Haley on the mirror, but a moment later someone came down that stairs.

Harry gawked for a moment as the beautiful and radiant Fleur Delacour entered the dining room.

"'Arry!," she said and moved forward to give him a kiss on the cheek. "Eet's so good to see you."

Harry blinked away the daze that clouded over him enough to say, "Hi Fleur, it's nice to see you too… Why, err— what are you doing at The Burrow?"

"'As no one told you? Bill and I are going to be married!"

"Wow, that's great. Congratulations!"

She laughed melodiously and gave him another kiss, on the other cheek this time. "Where is Molly?" she asked.

"Fixing breakfast."

"Ahh, zen I shall offer my assistance."

Harry contented himself sitting at the table for the next hour, eating and sipping on tea, while Molly and Fleur filled him in on the latest news. Bill stopped by briefly to eat before heading off to work. Mrs. Weasley looked on disapprovingly as Fleur bid him an enthusiastic goodbye. Bill was a lucky man by Harry's estimation, though for some reason, Harry didn't think he was into blondes.

It wasn't until past nine—after Mrs. Weasley and Fleur had gone to the sitting room—that a disheveled looking Ron stumbled down the stairs with a chattering Hermione in tow.

"Harry!" shouted Hermione as she rushed forward and gave Harry a one armed hug.

"How were the muggles, did they treat you alright?" asked Ron.

"Oh same as always, fat and obnoxious"—Harry grinned—"but they mostly left me alone, so it was fine."

Ron laughed.

"Did you just get in?" Hermione asked.

"Nah, I got here last night around one o'clock."

"Wow, you're up early then," Hermione commented.

Harry shrugged. "Couldn't sleep. Hey, I have something to tell you guys, do you think we could find somewhere we won't be overheard."

The two glanced at each other. "Yeah let's go out back," Ron said.

"You sure it's safe to talk out there?" Harry asked.

"Dumbledore said the wards would keep people off the property," said Hermione.

"Alright let's go."

As the three walked, Harry thought about how he was going to tell them about The Prophecy. He planned to tell them right when he saw them, so that's what he was doing. It was a big deal, true, but it was something he was going to have to live with and prepare for.

When they found a shady spot in the woods behind the burrow, Harry leaned in close and told them about the Prophecy, reciting the words verbatim.

"Oh no, Harry!" Hermione said. "What are you going to do?"

"Train I guess. Try to beat him. One of us has to kill the other, and I don't want to be the one being killed."

"Do you really think you can beat him, he's got fifty years experience on you," said Ron.

Harry raised his hands, palm up. "What other choice do I have?"

"What do you think this power is?" asked Hermione. She was fidgeting with her hands.

"Dumbledore reckons it's love. I don't know if I buy that."

"If Dumbledore says that's what it is, then he's probably right," she said.

"Yeah I guess, but that's a pretty crappy power if you ask me."

"I don't know…" Hermione began, looking contemplative. "I mean, love can be a pretty strong motivator, and magically, well your mum overcame the killing curse."

"Not really, a life for a life." There was a pregnant pause. "Doesn't matter anyway. That was the moment Voldemort marked me as his equal."

' _Did she really save my life or just postpone my death_?' he thought bitterly. Then he remembered the pact he'd made to Haley to fight for themselves, for each other. ' _She gave me a chance. A chance to make a life for myself... Thanks, Mum.'_ He wasn't "just Harry" anymore. His mother's gift to him was making him _The Chosen One_ and all it entailed.

"You seem to be taking this pretty well," said Hermione.

"I've had all summer to think about it."

"Yeah, mate, but you usually over think things like this when you're alone," Ron pointed out.

"I wasn't alone," he said, absently. Harry thought about Haley, and everything they had talked about together. She had really helped him work through a lot of his issues, such as Sirius and The Prophecy.

"Who were you with?"

"Hmm?" _Oops. Think fast, Harry._ "Of course, I wasn't alone, I had the Dursleys didn't I?" he said with a small laugh.

Ron threw his head back and guffawed, and Hermione laughed as well, though he didn't miss the suspicious look she gave him.

Harry then told them about Dumbledore's lessons, and the three speculated on the possible topics. Eventually, Ginny found them under the tree and they started a game of two-a-side quidditch until their O.W.L scores arrived just before lunch.

ooooOOOOooooOOOOoooo

The next day, Harry woke at dawn once again, but this time was the only one awake. He made himself a cuppa and waited until Mrs. Weasley came down to make breakfast. By the time ten o'clock rolled around and Ron and Ginny went off to grudgingly do chores, Harry was jittery with excitement.

As Harry walked up the stairs towards Fred and George's room, he was stopped by Hermione. It took him several minutes to get rid of her by claiming he was feeling tired, then he ducked into the room in time to hear the muffled sound of his name called with desperate urgency.

He whipped the mirror out from his bag where it was bundled in Weasley sweaters and pulled it out.

"Haley," he said, his voice low, just above a whisper.

The worried face of Haley Potter appeared, but the worry instantly morphed into relief.

"Harry! There you are."

"Hi, Haley." Harry felt his heart beat faster.

"What took you so long?"

"Hermione cornered me outside my room, and I had to make up a lame excuse. I think we might have to move the meeting time. I didn't consider that she would be here, and she doesn't have to do chores either."

"Ah, well my Hermione is too busy fawning after Ron," said Haley, an irritated tone to her voice.

"I… what?"

"They're dating. It's so annoying."

"What! That's crazy. I don't think my Ron and Hermione even like each other. They're always fighting!"

"And why do you think that is?"

Harry thought about it for a minute. "It's true though, ever since Hermione turned down Ron at the Yule Ball, the two have been distant. They aren't as close as they used to be."

"Merlin, you're so thick, Harry. That's because they fancy each other."

Harry shook his head, trying to comprehend her logic. _I guess their relationship has changed since then, and Ron did seem awfully sore that she went with Krum_ , he thought. "You know what… I think you might be right."

"Duh."

"How did yours get together?"

"I went to the Yule Ball with Ron, and I noticed Hermione watching us, so I asked her if she liked him, and she admitted she did, so I set them up."

"Wait, you went to the Yule Ball with Ron?" The revelation sent his stomach into knots.

"Yes, well, he was the obvious choice. All these boys kept asking me, and after Hermione turned him down after Viktor Krum asked her, we agreed to go together."

"Do, err… do you fancy him?"

"What! Haven't you been listening to me at all? I set them up, why would I do that if did?"

Harry felt his face grow warm at her incredulous expression. "I don't know, I guess I'm stupid."

Her expression softened. "No, I'm not into Ron."

"Oh," he said. She told him the other day she fancied him. Was that a mistake? Had she spoken wrong? Not that it mattered anyway, because they could never be together, not physically anyway, and what was a relationship without—

Somebody tried the doorknob, only to find it locked, and there was a loud knock on the door.

"Harry," came the voice of Ron from the other side of the door. "Fred and George are here. Get up and come down here."

Harry grimaced and looked down at the mirror. "Did you hear that?" he whispered. He was afraid that something like this might happen. There wasn't a whole lot of privacy at the Weasley household.

Haley nodded. "Yes, you have to leave?"

"Yes, Fred and George are here."

She gave a pouting look that made Harry grin. "Next week at this time then?"

"Yes, but we might have to arrange a new time. If I don't show up at ten, try eleven."

"Ok, bye, Harry."

"Bye, Haley," he watched her face disappear, saddened that it would be another week before he saw her next.

ooooOOOOooooOOOOoooo

The next weeks went by slowly, and Harry enjoyed all the quidditch with Hermione and the Weasleys, though the papers brought grim tidings with all of the disappearances, odd accidents and deaths.

They had a quiet celebration for Harry's birthday, and he even managed to squeeze in a few minutes on the mirror with Haley to wish each other Happy Birthday. Despite that, their communication had been brief and sporadic during this time as neither could find a good opportunity to get away for an hour or two. They resigned to waiting until the Hogwarts term started to have a lengthy conversation.

Despite this, they were able to meet the Sunday after their birthday.

"Haley Potter." Saying the words out loud sent a feeling of thrill through him.

Her brightly smiling face appeared. "Harry! How was your week?"

"We just spoke on Wednesday."

"Yeah, but so much has happened since then," she said distractedly. She was busy brushing her hair.

Harry watched the metallic silver brush glide through waves of auburn for a few moments, and Haley seemed content to let him. "So, you went to Diagon Alley too then?"

"Yep."

"Did you follow Malfoy too?"

Haley raised an eyebrow. "Why would I follow Malfoy anywhere?"

"I dunno, because he's up to something?"

"What is he up to?"

"If I knew I wouldn't be saying 'something' would I?"

"Whatever," she said, rolling her eyes.

"So, you didn't go to Madam Malkin's?"

She shrugged. "Don't need to. My robes from fourth year still fit."

"You haven't grown at all?"

"Not vertically. Girl, remember?"

"Oh, Really? I hadn't noticed."

She stuck her tongue out at him. "So what happened at Madam Malkin's?"

"Well, Malfoy and his mum were there," said Harry, distracted by wondering how she'd grown, if not vertically, "but then he gave his mum the slip and was sneaking around all suspiciously. Ron, Hermione, and I went after him."

She scrunched up her nose. "Come to think of it, I did see him walk past when we were at the twin's shop. I didn't think anything of it."

"Yeah, so we followed him into Knockturn Alley…" Harry proceeded to tell her about Draco entering Borgin and Burkes and the conversation he overheard.

"That does sound shady. I wonder if he did that in my universe too."

"Probably. You know, with the same things happening in both of our dimensions, we could almost be in two places at once," said Harry. Now that was an interesting prospect.

"Interesting… We're going to have to look into this more."

They lapsed into silence. Haley had finished brushing her hair, and Harry was just staring out the Window watching Ron catching gnomes.

"You know, I thought about something the other day," said Harry.

"What's that?"

"Well what with all security that we're under, and the identity checks, if you were Voldemort or a Death Eater in disguise, I would be completely screwed. I've pretty much told you every secret I have."

Haley giggled. "So you think I'm the Dark Lord do you?" she asked, a teasing smile playing at her face.

He snorted. "Well, not at this point, no. You know far too much to be an imposter, but when I first met you, I didn't really question your story. I'm a little disappointed in myself."

Haley narrowed her eyes. "I actually considered the same thing a few weeks ago. I don't think we were too smart about it. I mean, fresh off of being tricked by Sirius' death we should have been really suspicious of each other."

She was right. Remembering the diary, the whole thing could have been a trick by Voldemort to learn the prophecy. The thought made Harry's stomach churn. _How could I have been so stupid_. Haley was looking down at her lap in the mirror, apparently thinking similar self-deprecating thoughts. "But hey, we know we aren't impostors now, don't we. You've told me stuff that couldn't possibly come from a Death Eater," he said.

"True. We were just being dense. We're just so perfect for each other, neither of us wanted to believe it wasn't real." The comment was followed up by a pretty pink blush on her cheeks.

Was it just in his head, or was she dropping a lot of hints that she liked him? Harry thought about it for a long time as the two grew quiet. This was something that he had been thinking about for a long time. They had a connection, he and Haley, but it wasn't realistic for them to pursue anything other than a remote friendship, right?

They could never be more than friends. Even if they could meet in person, was it wrong morally? He didn't know the answer to that, but he knew he liked her. If he was honest with himself, he wanted to be with her romantically. If only they lived in the same dimension. She was smart and funny and beautiful, and they were more than perfect for each other, they were the _same fucking person_.

In the end, it was all meaningless, because they were separated by more than distance, and it made his chest ache. The whole situation had his mind reeling in confusion. The worst part was that he didn't even have anybody he could talk to about it. Well… there was one person, but did he really want to have this conversation with the subject of his confusion?

"Haley," he began, in the familiar tremulous tone with which he always began such delicate discussions.

"Yes, Harry."

"Do you have a boyfriend?" They had been over this before, but Harry couldn't think of any other way to lead into his real question.

She looked away from him. "You know I don't."

"Are you into anyone?"

"Why?"

"I dunno, just tell me."

She didn't respond immediately, but gazed at him calculatingly. "Zacharias Smith is kind of cute."

Harry's eyes bulged, and he furrowed his brow. _Maybe this wasn't such a good idea._ "What! You like that arse?" he said, anger in his voice.

"No of course not. He's a prat, but he's pretty good looking," she said defensively. "Are you telling me that you want to date every girl with a pretty face?"

He thought about Cho Chang, whom he still thought was pretty, but definitely would not want to date her anymore. She had a point, but that didn't stop him from feeling a surge of anger at Smith for existing. "No, I guess not."

"So don't get all defensive. You're the one that asked, and you don't have any say over which boys I look at. You shouldn't have brought it up if you didn't want to know."

"That's not what I meant—I just wanted to… You know what forget it."

For once, the silence between them was awkward indeed, and Harry regretted saying anything. Looking out the Window again, he was relieved to see Ron returning to the Burrow, red-faced and disheveled.

"I have to go. Ron's done degnoming."

"Ok," said Haley. Her voice was soft.

Harry wished he could owl Sirius.

ooooOOOOooooOOOOoooo

The month of August passed much faster than the previous two, and summer had come an end. Harry spent most of his time actually reading his defense books and practicing wand movements, much to the chagrin of Ron. It wasn't as good as actually performing the spells, but was better than nothing. The more he learned, the more he understood how big of a task was ahead of him.

Voldemort had decades more experience than Harry, and from everything he knew about him, he was an excellent student. Harry was above average at best, and hadn't exactly been proactive about improving. Until now anyways, but would it be enough? Probably not.

It was ten o'clock at night on September first, and Harry was sitting in a big comfy chair in the room of requirement. Harry and Haley had continued meeting every week, but there was a new tension that had developed between them. The unfinished conversation topic hung in the air like heavy smog, but he had come up with a plan with a little bit of help from an unexpected source.

~ _Flashback_ ~

 _Harry shuffled nervously into the kitchen of the Burrow the night before he left with the Weasley's to Kings Cross Station. He'd been putting this off for weeks, but it was his last chance. He found Mrs. Weasley directing her wand at the precession of lunch dishes marching towards the sink, overflowing with suds. After asking where he could find her husband, she sent him off to Mr. Weasley's shed with a steaming tea kettle and a knowing smile._

 _Harry stood outside the shed as minutes passed by until a loud BANG! sounded from inside. He quickly rushed towards the door and flung it open._

 _Mr. Weasley, who was half bent over a heavy brass room lamp, jumped back in surprise. "Harry! You startled me," he said, and then his eyes moved up and down Harry, that same knowing expression forming on his face. The elder Weasley sat down into the worn muggle office chair at his workbench and gingerly patted the stool adjacent him. "What can I do for you, Harry?_

 _Harry hesitated, before hopping up onto the barstool next to the older wizard. "Mrs. Weasley wanted me to bring this to you."_

" _Thank you, Harry. I was about to pop into the house and grab myself a fresh pot, but this saves me some time."_

 _He brandished his want and with a flick, two tea cups appeared before him and he poured one for each of them. "Is there something you wanted to talk about, Harry?" he asked._

" _Erm…" Harry tried to look the older wizard in the face, but felt the same flush creep onto his cheeks, forcing his gaze away. "Well, I was hoping to talk to someone about this girl I know..."_

 _He could see Mr. Weasley nodding in acknowledgement as he spoke. "Ahh, the plight of men everywhere. Please, tell me what's bothering you."_

" _She, well that is, I…" He shook his head, taking a moment to gather himself. Talking to Sirius about this stuff had never been so difficult. "I like this girl, and I wanted to know if she liked me back, so I tried to ask her about it, but it came out all wrong, and…" He trailed off glancing up to see Mr. Weasley looking on, patiently._

" _Well, I asked who she fancied and she said she thought Zacharias Smith was cute," said Harry, spitting the name like venom. "I kinda got angry when she said that, and then she got angry because I was angry, and we had a bit of a row. Now every time I talk to her it's different between us. I think I screwed up, badly, but I don't know how to fix it."_

 _He looked up to see a pensive expression on Mr. Weasley's face. Eventually he began bobbing his head and met Harry's eyes. "I believe you've committed a rather common mistake among men like us, Harry. You tried to understand her feelings without actually having to ask how she felt."_

 _Harry's eyebrows shot up and then knitted together. "I guess that's true. I didn't think about that."_

 _Mr. Weasley reached over and rested a hand on his shoulder. "Don't beat yourself up about it. Dealing with these new and complex feelings is as difficult for women as it is us. Part of growing up is understanding how to talk about our feelings constructively, and that takes time and practice."_

 _Harry nodded, and let him continue._

" _My recommendation is that you tell her how you feel about her, and let her respond in kind. You might be pleasantly surprised to learn how she feels. That, and a healthy apology always goes a long way." Arthur let out a hearty laugh as he released Harry's shoulder to take a sip of his tea._

 _Was it really that easy? Harry's mind raced as he thanked Mr. Weasley quietly and wandered back to the Burrow. A strange but pleasant emotion came over him as Mr. Weasley bid him goodnight._

~ _End Flashback_ ~

"He stomped your nose in?" Haley asked, horrified.

"Yeah, Tonks healed me up, but it still hurts a bit. I would have used the listening spell from the defense books, but I didn't get a chance to practice it over the summer. It's so stupid that we aren't allowed to use magic over the summer."

"You can use magic at the Weasleys' you know."

"Yeah, but Mrs. Weasley would have our heads."

She gave him a sly grin. "I didn't know you were the type to follow rules."

"She was kind enough to let me into her house—"

"I know Harry. I'm just having you on. I don't do much magic while I'm there, but Ginny always talks me into it as some point."

"So what did you learn about Malfoy?"

Harry explained to her what he overheard, but it wasn't much. She apparently hadn't thought it worth the risk to try and spy on Malfoy on the train.

"…so I don't think that tells as much, besides the fact that he's a Death Eater, which we already assumed." Harry said as he finished.

Haley thought about it for a while. "Well he insinuated that Voldemort's got plans for him."

"True, but that doesn't really help us, just confirms what we already knew."

"We need to keep an eye on him. Should be easier with two of us."

"True."

Harry was left stared into the fire, deep in thought. The two had spent a lot of time talking about the possibilities. If the same events were happening in both of their dimensions at once, they could almost be in two different places at once. If only they could be in the same place at once…

It wasn't long before the flow of discussion ebbed, and a pregnant silence came over them. The same one Harry had been dreading.

"It's good to be back at Hogwarts," began Haley. Her voice had an hesitant tone to it.

"Yeah."

"Are you excited for quidditch?"

"Yeah, I don't know how good the team will be though with Alicia and Angelina gone. Ginny should be a good replacement," he answered. His voice was dull, without any real emotion.

He was excited for quidditch, though. He had missed an entire year because of Umbridge and her stupid rules, but now, he could finally rejoin the team. He knew Haley had the same love for the sport as he did. When they were in the air, all of the stress from Voldemort, the stress from being The Chosen One, the stress of being Harry or Haley Potter disappeared. It was just them and the snitch.

"Are you worried about being captain?"

"Not really. Voldemort, I'm worried about him, but not quidditch."

She gave him a small grin, but it didn't reach her eyes.

Frustrated, Harry started to run his hand through his hair, but stopped half way. It seemed like he'd picked up the gesture from seeing his father in the pensieve. On one hand it disgusted him, but it also made him feel closer to his dad.

"Well, we should be able to see each other more, now that we're at school," she said.

"Yeah."

Harry continued staring into the fireplace that the room had created. It felt like there was a weight Harry's stomach. The same grim atmosphere seemed to follow him for the past month, and even his friends had commented his turn in attitude, compared to his cheerful disposition when he first arrived at month he'd been at the Burrow.

"Well… I guess I'll head off to bed… unless there was anything you wanted to talk about."

Harry squeezed his eyes shut at the words and rubbed his face. He was torn.

"Harry?"

"What?" he asked, dumbly.

"I'm going to bed."

"Ok." He watched as she shifted uncomfortable in the fluffy chair she was sitting in.

"Well, bye… I guess."

Harry clenched his jaw, his mind was screaming out for him to say something.

"Harry?" she said, her voice was strained.

 _Just fucking tell her!_

She shook her head. "Okay I'll see you next sun—"

"Wait!" he shouted, causing her to jump. "Don't go."

She looked down into the mirror. Her gaze was searching, but she didn't say anything.

"Look, Haley, we need to talk." Harry removed his glasses and messaged the bridge of his nose. "I'm sorry I got mad about you thinking Zacharias is cute—I'm sorry I even asked, but I hate that our conversations have gotten so hollow. We used to— I mean— I don't know… Our conversations used to be so deep and personal, and every moment I was with you I felt like you understood me better than anyone else. And now, everything has changed just because…" Harry looked away. Why was it so difficult to put into words?

"Harry."

He turned back to the mirror. She had moved her face close enough for him to see the light of the fire dancing in her eyes. The curls of hair around her face shone almost amber. "I like you, and not the way I like Hermione. You're amazing… beautiful and… I don't know. Is that wrong? We're practically family, hell we're basically twins… The whole situation is just… I don't even know. I'm so confused."

Her eyebrows knit together in indecision, and he could read the expression on her face as sure as he could feel his heart pounding in his chest. She was torn, confused, and vulnerable just like him. He wasn't used to this, bearing his soul to another. He didn't think he ever would have before this summer.

He waited for what seemed an eternity, staring into her eyes, his eyes, reflected back at him.

When she spoke, her words were cautious and deliberate, not a rambling spillage of syllables like his. "I feel the same way about you, Harry. I don't know what we are to each other. Maybe family, maybe something that's never existed before. You're not my brother. You're me, and I'm you…"

A hesitant smile began to form on his lips, but it quickly faded as she continued. There's always a but.

"…but there can never be anything between us." Her whole face fell into the saddest of expressions that he felt mirrored on himself. "We're from different worlds. I know it seems like there's only a thin pane of glass separating us, but it's just too much distance."

She paused then, and Harry was left speechless. Big, wobbly tears formed in her lower lids and then streamed down her face. He couldn't stand watching any longer and tore his eyes away from the mirror. He stared into the flames that licked at the soot covered stone fireplace. It was an illusion.

Sometimes, just sometimes he felt like his relationship with Haley was just like this fire. The heat, the smoke, even the shadows slithering across the walls were an illusion created by the Room of Requirement to make him feel comfortable, but in the end there was nothing there: no physical substance. Harry could no more reach out and take Haley's hand, than he could bottle the glowing embers littering the hearth and take them back to his dorm.

She was right. She was _always_ right, and it made his eyes sting in frustration. They sat like that for a long time, only the crackling hearth and her occasional sniffles breaking the silence. He noticed then, that the uncomfortable feeling that had separated them for the past weeks was absent, and he finally let himself smile.

"Haley?" he asked, steeling himself.

"Yes, Harry?"

He looked straight into the mirror to see her staring at him intently. "I think if we ever met in person things would be different."

Oddly, she covered her mouth with her balled fist and gave a strangled sort of laugh. He was sure if he could see her mouth she'd have a brilliant smile that showed all her teeth, but instead he watched her wipe at her face with the wrist of her long sleeved undershirt that was clutched in her fingers.

"I think so too," she said.

"I think I'm going to go back to Gryffindor Tower now."

"Ok."

"Can I… give you a goodnight kiss?" he asked, after a pause.

She gave him a quizzical look for a moment before her eyes focused on the surface of the mirror for a second, and then back at him. "Ok," she said, and a bright red blush crept up her neck and onto her creamy, pale cheeks. "But I wish I could kiss you for real."

He felt similar heat rise in him as he closed his eyes and leaned forward towards the mirror, wishing for the same thing as she did. He felt the magic in the room tremble for a second as his lips contacted the mirror. He could _swear_ he felt the soft pressure and burning heat of her lips moving against his.

When he opened his eyes gain, he was staring into his own reflection. No hint a of smear on the mirror could be found.


End file.
